


Bounce Rate

by siderealSandman



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Aged up characters, Amateur Pornographic Displays of Conversion Strategy, F/M, Grievous Abuse of Google Calendar as a Hookup Method, Office AU, Office Romance, Oral Sex, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-25
Updated: 2018-05-25
Packaged: 2019-05-13 13:08:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14749473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/siderealSandman/pseuds/siderealSandman
Summary: As someone who had spent her entire life doing what she ought to do, Marinette found it very hard to resist the temptation to do what she wanted to do.Especially when what she wanted to do was the boss' son.





	Bounce Rate

**Author's Note:**

> The following is a work of adult fiction featuring adult characters and intended for an adult audience only. It contains frank and explicit depictions of consensual sexual activity. All characters depicted are above the age of 18. Reader discretion is advised.

**Invitation:** Marketing/Sales Support Meeting RE: Bounce Rate 

**When:** 1:30 p.m.-2:30 p.m.

**Where:** A.Agreste’s Office 

**Who:** M. Dupain-Cheng, A.Agreste

YES | MAYBE | NO

Marinette’s heart skipped a beat as the invitation pinged in her inbox, glancing across the polished mahogany table as the marketing director sucked up to Gabriel like a common lamprey. Management all-staff meetings were the bane of everyone’s workweek, but a control freak like Gabriel Agreste couldn’t go more than seven days without micromanaging his company’s management team. They were dull, frequently demoralizing events as the chairman never failed to dress down his staff for anything less than a perfect implementation of his broad, overarching goal of global fashion domination. 

Adrien sat across the table sandwiched between the director of sales and human resources who each looked ready to throw the other one under the bus if Gabriel so much as looked at them. His eyes wandered off his screen, glancing briefly in her direction with a raised eyebrow before turning his attention back to his father. 

Marinette licked her lips, for once grateful that Gabriel kept his boardroom as frigid as his personality. The stale, air-conditioned air did wonders to still the pounding in her ears and cool her burning cheeks. Her fingers trembled as they hovered over the mouse, quickly losing a war with her pragmatic self as she clicked on his invitation. 

**Invitation:** Marketing/Sales Support Meeting RE: Bounce Rate 

**When:** 1:30 p.m.-2:30 p.m.

**Where:** A.Agreste’s Office 

**Who:** M. Dupain-Cheng, A.Agreste

**YES** | MAYBE | NO

Adrien’s laptop pinged softly, drawing his attention away from the meeting. She watched his eyes scan the screen, fidgeting with the hem of her skirt as he typed something, his face unreadable. 

**Updated Invitation:** Marketing/Sales Support Meeting RE: Bounce Rate 

**CHANGED When:** 1:30 p.m.-4:30 p.m.

**Where:** A.Agreste’s Office 

**Who:** M. Dupain-Cheng, A.Agreste

**YES** | MAYBE | NO

Marinette’s lips fell open in a small, barely audible gasp, looking up to see Adrien smirking at her over the rim of his laptop. 

* * *

Within thirty seconds of introducing herself to Adrien, she had spilled iced coffee on his shirt and frantically suggested that he get out of his wet clothes in front of half of the Sales department.

She thought her promising junior buyer position was dead in the water up to the point a mocha soaked Adrien Agreste started laughing. She was vaguely aware of Adrien’s existence and may/may not have mooned over a few snapshots of him as a teenager, but she knew nothing about him other than 1) he was Gabriel “Ice Queen” Agreste’s son and 2) he had a body that made Greek statues look like couch potatoes. 

She hadn’t expected him to be kind. Or funny in a lame, uses too many puns kind of way. Maybe it was due to the fact that they were the youngest people in the office by half a decade, or maybe it was due to the fact that she worked closely with the marketing department, but she found herself on a first-name basis with one of Paris’ most sought after bachelors after only a few months of long hours and lunch meetings. 

She learned that he had gotten out of modeling as soon as he was able (“Working a desk job beats scowling at the camera in your underwear any day of the week.”); that he hated not being able to go anywhere without people fawning all over him. She learned he didn’t have a great relationship with his father and found it hard to make friends. He was sweet, lonely, and completely gorgeous. Every fiber of Marinette’s rational self screamed at her that sleeping with the boss’ son was quite possibly the most irresponsible thing she could do. But as someone who had spent her entire life doing what she  _ ought  _ to do, Marinette found it very hard to resist the temptation to do what she  _ wanted  _ to do. 

Especially when what she wanted to do was named Adrien Agreste. 

* * *

Marinette leaned against the wall of the elevator to stop her legs from wobbling, clutching her laptop to her chest as she waited to arrive on Adrien’s floor. Senior management had cleared out to prepare for Fashion Week, leaving only the junior staff to keep the ship running. As she walked past rows and rows of empty desks towards the mahogany door at the far side of the floor, her heels echoed throughout the nearly empty office. People were chatting by water coolers, shooting the breeze, and generally pretending to work while waiting for five o’clock to roll around.

With the weekend so tantalizingly close, no one would even notice they were occupied.

Marinette took a deep breath, glancing around the empty floor before softly knocking on Adrien’s door. The door opened to reveal Adrien, now missing his jacket and tie with the sleeves of his lime-green shirt rolled up to his elbows.

“Mr. Agreste,” Marinette said, lips twitching into a small smile.

“Ms. Dupian,” Adrien said, stepping aside and holding the door for her. “So glad you could join me.”

Marinette stepped into Adrien’s office as he closed the door behind them, heart fluttering as the lock clicked shut. A stark contrast to his father’s brutal minimalism, Adrien’s office was full of ferns, warm wooden furniture, and no fewer than twenty novelty cat figurines displayed in various nooks, corners, and crannies. 

Marinette set her laptop on his desk, smoothing her red silk blouse. “I-I thought we could start by going over the analytics technology sent over; there seems to be a couple of pain points on the website that are costing us some…” Marinette trailed off as Adrien slid behind her, fingertips gliding down the smooth, silk contours of her waist. 

“You were saying?” Adrien murmured, fingers teasing the hem of her blouse out of the edges of her skirt. 

“...c-costing us some conversions,” Marinette continued, a soft whimper escaping her lips as he kissed the top of her head. 

“And what are your thoughts on that?” Adrien asked, unclasping the side of her pencil skirt and tugging the zipper down the side of her leg as he slid to his knees behind her. 

“...w-well, best practices would be to run some A/B tests with-” Marinette leaned forward, palms on his desk as he tugged her skirt down her thighs. “-alternating landing pages to see what- _ ahh!”  _

Marinette squeaked, nearly falling over on his desk as Adrien nipped the side of her bare thigh, grinning up at her when she looked down. “Something wrong, Ms. Dupain?” 

“How long are you going to pretend you actually want to talk about reducing our bounce rate?” 

“Who says I don’t?” Adrien said, hiking the hem of her blouse up over her hips and giving her butt an affectionate squeeze. “I just find it easier to come up with retention solutions when you’re naked~” 

Adrien’s finger ran under the waistband of a chiffon cherry patterned thong, lips pressing reverently against her ass as he pulled them down. Marinette stifled a gasp, leaning forward on her elbows as the cool office air washed over her unprotected sex. 

“I missed this booty” Adrien murmured, teasing a giggle out of her as his teeth grazed her ass. “This is my  _ favorite  _ booty in the whole world and it has been  _ entirely  _ too long since I’ve seen it bent over my desk.” 

A shiver slid up Marinette’s spine as she stepped out of her skirt, hands gripping the far edge of Adrien’s desk as his hands slid up her nylon covered thighs. After their first, hasty tryst in the broom closet at the company Christmas party, Adrien seemed to take as much time as he could undressing Marinette. He liked to leave her half-dressed, bottomless and blouse unbuttoned with her heels digging into his back or topless while he pulled her underwear off with his teeth. More than anything, he liked a full, unrestricted view of her bent over, barely clothed, and hanging on his next move. 

“Why am I always the- _ mmh- _ first one to naked?” Marinette panted. 

“You look better naked than I do,” Adrien replied. 

“D-Debatable,” Marinette said, pressing her face against the cool wood of the desk as Adrien traced her warm, wet pussy from behind, the teasing tip of his middle finger pushing inside. Months of stolen moments and half-dressed sex had made Adrien adept at getting Marinette up to speed quickly. It always helped that their hookups were always scheduled in the morning for the afternoon so she could spend a few hours simmering in sexual frustration. It didn’t take much once they finally met—a few minutes of delicate touching, teasing, and strategically placed nips as she was practiaclly a pigtailed puddle. 

Maybe it was because their managers were out for the foreseeable future, but Adrien seemed to be taking his time. They didn’t need to rush back to their desks and they weren’t in any danger of being walked in on for the first time in their brief affair. They had nothing to do for the rest of the afternoon but make up for weeks of pent-up desire. 

“I really did miss you,” Adrien murmured, hands snaking around her stomach and slowly teasing her blouse buttons open with one hand. His other hand nestled between her legs, pulling sighs and muffled little mewls from Marinette’s lips. 

“B-Been busy,” Marinette stammered, letting him slide her blouse off her shoulders. “Fashion Week is always hell to set up for.” 

“You don’t need to tell me twice,” Adrien chuckled, easing her black bra straps off her shoulders as he kissed her neck. Her hips rocked backwards instinctually, grinding against the bulge that his slacks did absolutely nothing to conceal. Adrien’s hands pushed her bra down, squeezing her breasts with an affectionate purr that made her tingle. 

“We should d-do this more often then,” Marinette suggested, hands falling back and fumbling for his belt for a few seconds before he turned her around by the shoulders and seized her with a breath-stealing kiss. Even in heels, she had to lean up on the balls of her toes, frantically tugging at the buttons that held Adrien’s shirt together. 

“Easy, kitten,” Adrien chuckled against her lips as she fumbled with the buckle of his belt. “We’re not exactly hurting for time.” 

“I know,” Marinette panted, whimpering as his tongue snaked past her lips. “B-But I missed you too, you know.” 

“I couldn’t tell,” Adrien said, letting his shirt fall off his shoulders and pulling Marinette into a tight embrace. Her hands fell down to his stomach, purring as her fingers traced his toned abs on the way to his zipper. Adrien nipped at her lower lip, unbraiding Marinette’s hair and letting fall in loose cascades of curls down her bare back. His hands again found her garter-framed ass, squeezing it playfully as Marinette tugged his slacks open. 

Marinette broke the kiss off, fingers squeezing his cock softly through his boxers. “I, um... I wanna try something.” 

Brow knitting in curiosity, Adrien allowed himself to get pushed back towards the futon, falling back as Marinette bent down to pick up a discarded hair tie. He took a moment to admire her smooth, freckled skin as she pulled her hair into a messy bun and sank to her knees in front of him. His lips fell open in a surprised half-gasp as she tugged his pants off, tossed them to the side and looked up at him a little shyly. 

“I’m, uh, a l-little rusty at this,” Marinette chuckled, fingers playing with the hem of his briefs. “Sorry if I bite you or-” 

“Hey, a l-little teeth never hurt anyone,” Adrien chuckled, lifting his hips a little as Marinette pulled his underwear down his legs. She tossed his black boxer briefs across the room, parting his thighs with her hands as she settled between them. She licked her lips, leaning forward and hesitantly kissing the underside of his head. Adrien let out a small gasp, legs stiffening and cock twitching involuntarily. Her tongue slipped between her lips, slowly licking its way up the length of his shaft and punctuating with a lingering kiss. She looked up as her head leaned forward, watching his vibrant green eyes flutter shut and a small, mewling whimper pass between his lips. 

“ _ Mmngh… _ ” Adrien grunted, opening his eyes to watch her plump, pink, kiss-swollen lips engulf him inch by inch. Bluebell eyes glanced up to meet his gaze as she pulled back with a wet  _ pop _ . 

“You lllllllllllike?” Marinette giggled, dragging the L out in a long lick that swiped at the cherry flavored trails her lipgloss had left on his cock. 

“You’re g-gonna kill me,” Adrien said hoarsely, fingers threading through her hair. 

“You can’t expect to give good head and not get it back,” Marinette murmured, parting her lips and taking him back in her mouth. His legs arched up onto the balls of his toes, hands gripping her hair as his hips arched into her mouth involuntarily. She grunted softly as her nose buried in blonde curls, tongue lapping at the base of his shaft before pulling back with a gasp of breath. 

“Th-this is you rusty?” Adrien chuckled, biting his lip as Marinette kissed his tip with a small giggle. “And y-you’ve been single since— _ oh, f-fuck— _ college?’ 

Good head deserved good head and Marinette’s string of pillow prince(ss) exes didn’t subscribe to her philosophy. The fact that Adrien seemed to relish paying her lip service meant that Marinette could give without fear of getting stiffed (pun intended). Besides, there was something thrilling about watching her normally cool, composed co-worker dissolve under her tongue; to feel his heartbeat pulsing between her lips with every pass of her tongue. 

Adrien’s head bumped against the wall as Marinette began a slow, bobbing pace, fingers dipping between her legs. Her soft, muffled moans drew panting, stifled gasps from Adrien. She could feel him getting close; his breathing became shallower with every pass of her lips. His hands bunched in her hair, guiding her head as his hips gently rose to meet every bob. She could feel him twitch inside her mouth, her fingers working faster and faster until-

_ “Ahh!”  _

Adrien spilled into her warm, wet mouth with a gasp, holding on to her hair for dear life as Marinette’s lips teased every drop she could out of him. He went limp after a few seconds, shuddering and panting for air as Marinette released him, planting a sticky kiss on the tip of his cock as she sat back on her heels. 

“Good?” Marinette asked, somewhat rhetorically as Adrien pushed his hair out of his eyes, looking down at her with a distant, dreamy smile. 

“C’mere,” he mumbled, leaning forward and cupping the back of her head to pull her into a slow, deep kiss. “I’m not done with you yet.” 

“I-I’m good finishing myself off if you’re-” Marinette squeaked as Adrien tugged her up on to the futon, tossing her on her back as he dropped between her legs. 

“Good head deserves good head,” Adrien purred, pressing a kiss on top of her clit as he looked up at her with a hungry looking grin. “And after the performance you just put on, I’m gonna  _ devour  _ you.” 

* * *

The setting sun streamed through the blinds onto Marinette’s naked back, face pressed flush against Adrien’s chest as he tossed a second used condom in a nearby wastepaper basket. True to their predictions, nobody disturbed them as they spent the afternoon doing everything but work on the project they were supposed to.

“I gotta say,” Marinette breathed, kissing Adrien’s chest. “That’s a lot better when we don’t have to worry about getting walked in on.” 

“And when we have a flat surface instead of getting prodded with mops while making out,” Adrien chuckled, tilting her chin up and pressing his lips against hers. 

“Your futon is nice,” Marinette giggled. 

“You like this, you should see my bed,” Adrien said, fingertips trailing down Marinette’s bare chest. 

“...is that an invitation?” Marinette asked, looking up at him. “I thought we agreed we would keep this...casual.” 

Adrien leaned down and brushed a sweaty lock of hair out of Marinette’s face. “That what you want?” 

“...people would talk,” Marinette said, tilting her chin up and kissing Adrien’s palm. “I don’t want to get a reputation of sleeping with the boss’ son.” 

“If it makes you feel any better, my dad doesn’t care enough about who I date to show favoritism,” Adrien said, cupping her breast with a small squeeze. “But if you’d like to keep it on the downlow, there’s no reason why we can’t take work home with us.” 

Marinette bit her lip, weighing her options carefully. “Well...w-we didn’t exactly get to the bounce rate, did we?” 

“Probably gonna have to work from home,” Adrien said, cupping her cheek. “Who knows...could take all weekend.” 

“Just might,” Marinette conceded. “We can talk about it more over dinner.” 

“And breakfast,” Adrien said, rolling over and pressing a kiss against Marinette’s neck. “I make the  _ best  _ pancakes.” 

* * *

And as hard as they worked on improving their conversion rate, neither of them seemed to come up with a solution, even after three days of intense, round the clock meetings that stretched late into the night. So they resolved to work on it next weekend...and the following Monday….and over lunch in Adrien’s office...and in the broom closet at the company Fashion Week party.

(Adrien’s pancakes were nowhere near as good as advertised, but his bed was  _ much  _ nicer than his futon.)

**Author's Note:**

> Much Love to DarkReyna16 for editing this/existing/being generally foxy as all hell


End file.
